


The kids aren't alright.

by svevijah



Category: Winx Club
Genre: Gen, i told myself not to fall into this hole but here we are, no beta we die like men, this is going to be terribly long, winx club reboot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24701833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svevijah/pseuds/svevijah
Summary: Dear Bloom,congratulations! On behalf of the Alfea College  community, I am pleased to announce your admission to our courses.Sincerely,Headmistress Romilda Faragonda.( Winx Club reboot )
Kudos: 16





	The kids aren't alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys! I had this concept in the back of my mind for a long while and now I feel like it could be a good time to write it down. Winx made my childhood and Rainbow has turned it into a circus, so here's me trying to give it an hypothetical She-Ra treatment. Hope you enjoy!

There were tons of ways to celebrate the last days of summer, yet as Bloom sunk deeper on the couch, she couldn't come up with anything better than watching reruns of her favourite show and slowly settle in the idea that her routine would soon start over. 

She didn't mind it really, the idea of staying in Gardenia after graduation and continue to help her mother at the flower shop. It wasn't her first choice, but money was tight, and she needed as much as she could earn to enroll in art school, or even move some place where she could grow as an artist. She didn't mention any of it to her parents though, mostly because she didn't want to them to feel bad.

Things were slow in the neighborhood lately, mostly because her peers were already starting to move to their respective colleges and start a new chapter of their life. Bloom's gaze mindlessly darted on the window, where she could see the shadows of a bunch of people walking by the curb and talking loud. 

She'd never really been part of something, probably because she's always had the feeling that something was missing in her life. For a while she thought it was the fact that she didn't know who her biological parents, then when the voice in her head started getting loud, she just settled for the hard truth that she was weird, and kids were scared of the sudden "wildfire situation" that sometimes would happen in her presence.

Her parents had her talk to a shrink for a while, and at some point Bloom started to think things were coming to place, fixing like they should. Now she was eighteen and the world seemed to spin too fast for her to acknowledge it, or even care. 

Vanessa Peters liked to think of herself as a good person, open minded even. She had a flower shop and cured it like her life depended on it, mostly because the house mortgage was paid with the shop monthly income. Mike Peters… he was good too, a firefighter who was not prone to indulge in weird things - which was ironic, really, considering he found his beloved daughter in a building soon to collapse due to a wildfire, and never managed to explain while the flames never touched her. 

And now they were sitting across each other in the kitchen of their house, worried expressions on their faces and guilt in their heart, and a lilac envelope heaving between them.

"I'm going to sleep." Bloom announced somewhere from the stairs. "Goodnight."

Vanessa gulped lightly, thinking that for once a little bit of selfishness wouldn't have hurt in their little family. Still, as her gaze fell on the envelope, she let out a sigh and called for her daughter to get in the kitchen. Bloom walked downstairs, her steps loud enough to echo all around the room.

"We need to talk." Mike finally spoke, a pained expression on his face as he patted on the chair where Bloom would usually sit.

Bloom sat on the chair, gaze darting between her parents in search of something, anything, that would give away the reason of such sudden family briefing. Vanessa gave her an encouraging smile and pushed the envelope in her direction.

"What is this?"

Mike and Vanessa fell silent, brows knitting in confusion. "Honey, I thought you had decided to take a year break before college…" Vanessa began sweetly, trying to get her daughter to come clean. "Why didn't you tell us you applied for one?"

Bloom's eyes popped open, and she finally opened the envelope. If it was even possible, her eyes widened even more.

\------ / ------

_ ALFEA COLLEGE _

_ Bloom M. Peters _

_ Gardenia, Earth _

_ Dear Bloom,  _

_ congratulations! On behalf of the Alfea College community, I am pleased to announce your admission to our courses. For years Alfea College has educated students from all over the world, preparing them to successfully join the professional world.  _

_ You will soon be put in contact with a tutor who will help you throughout your school year, chosen upon the information acquired from your attitude test.  _

_ Thank you for choosing Alfea College. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Headmistress Romilda Faragonda. _

\------ / ------

Bloom's gaze darted back to her parents, who were beaming despite their initial confusion as to why she had kept it secret. Much to Bloom surprise, she didn't know about that either. 

"You've been accepted! Isn't it great?" Vanessa chirped. "Although I'll admit I've never heard of this college before…"

"Must be specialized in arts!" Mike quipped with a shrug, and Bloom found herself mirroring him.

"Yeah, sure… it's uhm, new… sort of… they changed name!" she stammered, taking a mental note to check this place once this whole ordeal was over.

"Well, are you happy?"

Bloom sunk in her chair, her gaze focused on a spot before her: at best, her art teacher had somehow applied for her, as illegal as it is, at worst there was a mistake. Maybe it's a joke.

"Yeah, I am. Didn't expect to get in." she said, sounding too real even to herself.

"Nonsense!" Mike declared waving a hand in the air. "Of course they'd take you in, you're the best!" 

Bloom gave them a weak smile, and as she walked upstairs, she hoped that whatever weird thing was going on it wouldn't blow up on her.

\------ / ------

The morning after, Bloom received a text from a girl named Stella, who ranted for a good few lines about the fact that had found the number and address on the application form and could crash by at whatever hour later in the day. 

Bloom’s brow raised skeptically. She didn’t apply to anything and the whole situation seemed quite sketchy for her liking. What if this Stella girl was trying to scam her? She couldn’t put her parents in such dangerous possibility.

_ BLOOM: do you mind if we meet somewhere else? maybe a cafe? _

_ STELLA: sure, whatever. send me the location.  _

Later in the evening Bloom send Stella the address to her favourite cafe, and then waited for the girl to show up… or not, if her opinion on the matter was true. Stella ended up arriving fifteen minutes later, stating that her being  _ fashionably late  _ will be something that Bloom is going to see a lot. 

Stella quickly took off the yellow leather jacket she was wearing, and Bloom averted her gaze as she noticed her outfit consisted pretty much in a white bralet shirt with sunflowers patterns and and ripped denim jeans; her honey blonde hair were styled in a messy bun, and Bloom could notice clearly that some strands of wild hair had its tips colored of a washed orange. Stella looked like one of those lowkey edgy and mysterious girls from mainstream media, and Bloom had to refrain from asking her if she’d be willing to pose for one of her drawings.

“So here’s the deal, I didn’t apply to anything.” she said instead.

“Duh, of course you didn’t.” Stella conceded matter of factly. “It doesn’t work like that.”

Bloom shot her a skeptical look, and Stella couldn’t help but roll her eyes and mutter under her breath something about  _ it _ being  _ unacceptable _ . “There ministry has registers with all the names of every single magical being. When the time comes a letter is send and they basically tell you that it’s time to start thinking about what type of job you want to do and what can you provide to society.”

“Magical beings?”

“Yes Bloom, magical beings.” Stella echoed, voice reduced to a whisper. “You know you’re a fairy, right?”

“What?” Bloom squawked, fingers gripping tighter to her cup of coffee.

“A fairy.”

“Yeah sure. Then this Alfea College is essentially a school for fairies.”

“Now we’re starting to get somewhere!”

“I don’t believe you.”

Stella seemed taken aback by Bloom’s statement, or at least enough to move a manicured hand to her chest dramatically, golden eyes narrowing tight and a little gasp leaving her lips. “Okay then. What would you like to know?”

“Where is this college? Like, what country?”

“That’s a good question, but I can’t answer.” Stella quipped, thumb and index quickly turning into a finger gun. “That’s classified between Ministers.”

“So humans know about… magical beings.”

“Not really. Only the people in charge.” Stella explained vaguely, prompting Bloom to think that she really didn’t know what to tell her. “It’s politics and I’m not really into that.”

“Where do you come from?”

“LA baby!” the blonde shouted proudly, then took a sip of the iced coffee that had arrived minutes ago but was still untouched. “Dad’s from Havana, mom’s from Santorini. I live in between and try to survive their failed marriage.”

Before Bloom could ask any further, Stella was already deep into the history of her family, her dad’s billionaire company and her mom’s most famous astronomical research, then their divorce and some custody battle that wasn’t settled yet and that she found ironic because she’s pretty much an adult by now and doesn’t need it anymore. Bloom tried to stop her rant a couple times, but then somewhere between an accidental arson and a vague explanation of first year courses she got way too invested.

“I don’t have powers though.” she finally said, and Stella dropped her story all of a sudden.

“But your name is on the letter.”

“Maybe they’re wrong.”

“Maybe they’re just latent and waiting for some big event to happen.” the blonde countered. “Do you have any stories that you would define… strange?”

Bloom thought about it for a second. She couldn’t figure out what it was about Stella that made her feel at ease enough to sit at a table for hours and hear about foolish daydreams, but here she was, and here goes nothing. “I was found in a fire, but according to my dad I wasn’t burned from it. Sometimes when I’m upset things catch fire - not big fire, just tiny flames. When someone has bad intentions, I can feel it.”

“You can see auras?” Stella asked in surprise. “That’s cool. I touch things and see the memories attached to it. It would be useful if only being a detective was among my job of choice.”

Bloom’s lips quirked into a thin smile, and for a second she thought that maybe if she’d get Stella to touch the blanket her dad found her tucked in as a baby, maybe Stella could find out who her biological parents were, or where she could find them now. “Stella, this seems all very nice, but I can’t ditch my family to go learn magic tricks. That’s not what growing up means.”

Stella let out a sigh, and her hand quickly dropped in the pocket of her jacket in search of something. Finally, she picked up a piece of paper and pushed it towards Bloom. “Well, I came prepared. I’ll move my stuff back to the dorm these days, and maybe if you’re free you could stop by.” she paused and got up. “No pressure of course, just… you don’t seem to know much about your past. Maybe this is a sign that you could find what you’re looking for there.”

Bloom opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Stella eventually left a ten dollar bill to pay for both and left before she could get her change. Bloom’s gaze darted back on the card, and something in heart tingled.

\------ / ------

It took Bloom several tries before understanding how she was supposed to use the card that Stella had given her the day before. She eventually found her way when the card accidentally dropped on the floor, expanding and revealing some sort of yellowish light that Bloom didn’t whether be afraid of or not. 

She ended up standing in a corridor, students would walk by every now and then holding boxes and clothes, parents and various other relatives trailing behind. Bloom felt uncomfortable, mostly because despite having an acceptance letter she didn't seem to fit in this scenario just as much as she didn’t with her  _ human peers _ .

“Just make sure that box doesn’t get lost, my  _ Spella McCartney _ formal gowns are in there.” Stella’s voice echoed, and Bloom just had to follow a copious amount of shrieks to find her, sitting on a king size bed, boxes and clothes all over the floor and her phone casually flying across the mattress. 

“You made it!” she screamed in surprise, almost losing her footing as she got up to hug Bloom. Stella looked as radiant as the day before: today she was wearing denim shorts and a white graphic t-shirt; her hair cascaded in loose waves on her shoulders and she looked like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown but was also managing.

A brunette boy entered the room a few seconds later, arms full with an enormous box. He didn’t seem to mind the weight though. Stella pointed an empty space on the floor and he dropped the box there, earning a peck on the cheek from the blonde. “Bloom, this is Brandon.” she presented casually, but Bloom could tell there was an edge of… something else lingering on her tone. “Dad couldn’t come, so he offered to help me move. He’s from Red Fountain.”

Bloom nodded and smiled, unaware of the fact that there was supposed to even be another school beside Alfea. Just that notion seemed strange enough. “He’s a good friend of mine, and works for my cousin.”

Bloom could tell her presence had changed something in Brandon’s plans when he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and announced that he’d leave for Red Fountain and unpack his stuff before Sky would take the better bunk. Stella laughed it off, and after making sure to remind him to be careful on the bike he headed to the door.

“Oh, hey Bran,” Stella called out once he was in the corridor. “I was thinking… we should hang out sometime, so I can repay you for helping me today.”

Brandon seemed surprised, and all the cockiness he had displayed just a minute ago disappeared. “You don’t have to, I didn’t mind.” he stammered, and Stella waved her hand in the air to stop him. “Nonsense. I’ll text you details. Thanks again.”

Brandon bid his goodbyes to Stella and Bloom again and left for real. When Stella was sure he was out of reach, she let out a loud sigh and jumped back on her bed. “I like him so much but at his rhythm he’ll end up asking up when I’m dead.”

Bloom let out a breathy laugh, standing there unsure until Stella decided that she was being too rigid. Propping herself up, she headed to the door, dragging Bloom along with her. “Alright girl friend, let me show you around before your big decision.”


End file.
